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Deep in the evenings he worked them, night after night, while one by one they quit, citing his obsession with a premise that would never bear fruit as reason.

And yet one stayed on, a silent man with a stoic countenance and hands as steady as his stride, a man who stayed, not for the promise of success, but to admire real drive and passion that so often was lacking in himself.


Image by Michal Matczak
(third artwork down/dirigible)

This is just a piece of a larger image, though I didn’t know that when I wrote the story. So while it’s technically an airship, I viewed it as a workshop instead and went with that idea.

What would your two line story be?